


Switched Magnolias

by drfrankensara



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:45:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drfrankensara/pseuds/drfrankensara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mags Cohen of District Four has grown numb to the Games. They have never touched her and she assumes it will stay that way—until her twin sister is reaped. Now she must face the truth of the Games while concealing her identity from the Capitol and, of course, while trying to stay alive. Slight AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The waves rocked the skiff back and forth. When she’d set out on the water she’d assumed the rhythm would calm her nerves, quell the nervous adrenaline pumping through her veins. It was, of course, all for naught. It still felt as if her skin was alive, like she didn’t quite fit in it. Even so, her hands remained steady, twisting and knotting at the fish hook in between her fingers. She thought this she could do in her sleep. She could probably even do it in death. Her cold dead fingers would still twist and tie at the air as if hoping to catch a wind back into life. It was more than just muscle memory; she wore the skill to her bones, to her very soul. 

"Mags. We better get off the water. The Peacekeepers’ll get mad." 

She looked up at the voice, taking in her long curly brown hair tied up in a lazy bun. It was a face so much like her own, Mags often forgot she wasn’t looking into a mirror. Instead, she peered into the eyes of Maggie, her twin sister. 

"Peacekeepers can shove it." Mags muttered, pulling out her knife to slice off a spare bit of fishing line. 

"Mags—" 

"I know. We gotta get ready for the Reaping. I don’t need a lecture."

Maggie softened, reaching to still Mags’ busy hands. “I wasn’t gonna lecture you.” 

A tiny smile played on Mags’ lips. “Oh yeah?” 

"I was just gonna say you tied the same knot twice." Maggie pointed at the hook in her sister’s hands, the fishing line wound tightly around the bait. Mags’ knuckles were white over the knot, doubled and vice-like. She released the hook with a sheepish smile. 

"Right." 

——————————-

"You’re late." 

"The tide is never late. You’re simply not paying close enough attention." Mags spat, pulling her hair free from it’s ponytail and shaking it out. Her mother, Magdalene, stood next to her, stern and fussing over every wild strand. 

"Now is not the time for your tongue, Magaly. You must look your best for the Reaping or there will be another tax on our grain. We can’t afford it." Mags made a face at her proper name.  _Pearl._ It never quite fit. She always felt as if she was more like the oyster than the pearl. If anyone was a pearl, it was Maggie. Mags was the farthest thing from it. 

"Why are you only criticizing me? I’m not the only one who was late." She looked pointedly, though not without humor, at her sister. 

"I did try to get you to leave." Maggie pointed out with a shy smile. 

"Traitorous sister rats me out! I though we were gonna go down together! Does blood mean nothing to you?" Mags complained playfully, swatting her mother’s hand away and beginning to smooth out her twisted locks. 

"The Reaping is no laughing matter, Magaly. You and Magnolia both know that." Her mother scolded, though this time considerably softer. Gingerly, the elder woman tucked a few stray strands of hair behind Mags’ ear. "If anything happens to you two…" She trailed off, her lip quivering. Her whole head shook with the movement, springy curls vibrating with fear. 

"I know, Mama. I’m sorry." Mags paused, looking carefully at Maggie who was struggling to wrangle her curls into a tie at the back of her head. "Here, let me." Mags offered, pulling the dark strands into a half-up do. They always wore their hair differently. It was one of the few ways you could tell them apart. Otherwise, you might as well have been seeing double. 

——————————-

District Four gathered in the square, the bay at their backs. Contrary to self-preservation, Mags felt more comfortable in the open air next to the sea. The gentle breeze and the sound of high tide against the docks brought her an eerie calm. The pressure of the Reaping did not reach her here. Names would be called, there would be speeches and goodbyes, and then she and Maggie and the rest of the district minus two would go about their daily lives. It was easier to remain desensitized to it. Safer too. 

Mags remembered the Uprising. She wasn’t keen to relive it so soon. 

Solemnity followed the children as they filed into the square in neat little lines. Cattle for the slaughter. Maggie clutched nervously at Mags’ hand, eyes darting around at their friends as they filed in next to them. A few girls placed reassuring hands on Maggie’s shoulder which she returned with an uneasy smile. Mags had long grown numb to the Games but Maggie had yet to learn that skill. 

It didn’t matter whose name they called. It didn’t matter how well or how little Maggie knew them. It wasn’t even so much fear for herself as it was watching their suffering, Mags thought. Maggie would watch the Games and cry for weeks. She screamed in her sleep in the months following them. Mags would, no doubt, spend the next few weeks consoling her sister back from her yearly abyss. 

How could she not glide through the wreckage like a shadow? There was no room for Mags to feel such pain. 

"Maggie, are you alright?" Elvin appeared at her side like clockwork, a worried look on his admittedly perfect brow. Tanned, tall, albeit a little socially awkward, he followed Magnolia like a hungry pup. And it didn’t take much for Mags to gather that Maggie was as in love with Elvin as he was with her. On a normal day Mags would have made her exit but Maggie’s stony grip on her hand kept her from going anywhere. 

"I’m okay. Thank you Elvin. I’ll see you after?" Maggie offered with a nervous courteous smile. She looked a fine shade of green, however. Raised on the water or not, Maggie was always prone to a certain amount of seasickness. It stuck with her, though Mags could no longer determine if her color was from their morning trip or from something else altogether. 

"Sure thing." Elvin smiled as big as you could smile on Reaping day, kissed Maggie’s cheek, and disappeared into the crowd of children. 

"Be careful, Maggie. People will begin to think you’re not as wholesome as you seem." Mags teased quietly, scanning the crowd as they settled into place. 

"Mags, really, this is not the time." Maggie snapped, though just the hint of a smile touched her lips. Mags’ own grin spread across her face. She took special pride in being able to make her sister smile. Gentle, polite, and compliant, seeing Magnolia smile was a rare sight that very few were party to. Mags on the other hand… She handed out cheeky smiles like candy. 

A hush fell over the crowd suddenly. Mounting the stage in attire too colorful to belong to anyone that actually lived in District Four was Xenon Redwind, the official emissary of the Capitol. Clad in a pinstripe suit of brilliant blue and silver, his blonde hair whipped into a shape more solid than hair ever should be, he waved a delicately gloved hand and stepped in front of the microphone. 

"Welcome guppies! Nine short years ago saw the end of a brutal war. The Uprising! The Treaty of Treason brings us together today, in one of it’s many endeavors to preserve peace in our beautiful and diverse land of Panem: The Hunger Games. This annual event brings together our twelve districts. One girl and one boy from each district will serve as ambassadors of peace! They will come together to compete in the Games to ensure the continued prosperity of our great nation! Today, the annual Reaping, will mark the commencement of the 9th Annual Hunger Games. Today, two of your own will be chosen to enter this noble journey into the minds and hearts of our great Panem. And, as always, may the odds be ever in your favor!" 

"Inspiring." Mags muttered humorlessly. Maggie gripped at her hand tighter, a warning. She glanced over to see the look on her sister’s face. Maggie looked pale, like she might be sick. It was a look Mags had seen a few times before and it made her nervous. It wouldn’t be good for them to make a scene during the Reaping. Names in the bowls or not, their food supply could easily be taken from them. Mags only very recently got her fishing privileges back after the incident last year. It would be very bad if it happened again. 

Mags leaned over to peck her sister’s forehead. Maggie was hunched and staring at the ground with determination, as if she hoped it might swallow her up. She also trembled, sweat beading on her forehead and soaking the neck of her dress. The trembling seemed to still a little at the contact though, and Mags breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Why don’t we start with the boys!" Xenon offered, strutting over to the bowl containing the thousands of paper slips with the names of every boy 18 and under in the district. Xenon made a great show of picking, rooting his gloved hands around for  _just_ the right slip of paper. Wouldn’t want to choose the WRONG boy to get killed in the Games, right? 

Finally, he pulled out a slip, unrolled it with a flourish, and zipped back to the microphone to reveal the exciting news. “And our male tribute shall be… Calder Marsh!” 

A flinch seemed to ripple through the crowd. Seventeen year old Calder Marsh stood towards the back of the boys, still as a statue. A keening wail broke through the silence of the square, no doubt his mother, lamenting the imminent death of her son. Mags had to shake her head to check if she’d heard clearly. Calder Marsh, the most popular and beloved boy of the district. Tribute. 

The tears and snuffling started as Calder mechanically made his way toward the stage. He looked as shocked as everyone else felt, like his own feet were taking him somewhere he didn’t intend for them to go. Mags felt a surge of pity for him. She didn’t know him but he had always seemed like a nice person. That’s all she could muster though. Passing pity. She took a deep breath and waiting for the girls. This would all be over soon and she could go back to her fishing boat. 

"Congratulations Calder!" Greeted Xenon, placing a hesitant hand on Calder’s shoulder. Then, without coaxing, he turned to the girls. "And now, for the ladies!" He sauntered to the opposite bowl and plucked out a slip of paper like it was nothing. Mags tried very hard not to read too much into it. 

"Our female tribute from district four shall be… Magnolia Cohen!" 

——————————-

Maggie vomited on her way to the stage, having to move the rest of the steps up with the help of a pair of Peacekeepers. She trembled so violently, Mags could see her from where she stood in the back of the crowd. For all her talk, Mags found she couldn’t move. Xenon’s words didn’t reach her as he prattled on and on about what a privilege it was to be chosen to compete in the Hunger Games. That they should all wish their tributes well on their journey into the unknown. That they should all be proud of what they would undoubtedly accomplish. 

Before Mags knew what was happening, people were being shepherded out of the square. Calder and Maggie and Xenon were no longer on stage. A surge of panic ran through her, the same nervous energy from earlier this morning. She had to move, she had to find Maggie, she had to—

"Mags!" Elvin was shouldering through the crowd toward her, fear and despair on his fair features. Mags felt her heart breaking just looking at him. She had to remind herself that she was not the only one that took delicate care of her twin sister. 

"I have to… I have to go find her. I have to say goodbye." Mags answered as if on autopilot. The words sounded mechanical from her lips. She didn’t sound like herself. She’d never imagined… Never thought… How could Magnolia be reaped? It never happened to anyone she knew. District four was big. How could this have happened? How could it be real? 

"Wait, Magaly!" Elvin called as Mags began to plow through the crowd toward city hall, leaving him to fight against a horde of relieved individuals. Pained whispers reached her of Calder, but none for Magnolia. No one cared for the crybaby twin and her troublemaker sister. Only the golden boy. 

By the time Mags finally made it into city hall, Calder’s family and friends had gathered in the foyer. Magdalene and a small smattering of their friends stood waiting for Mags. Tears streamed silently down her mother’s face, her cheeks ruddy and slick. She looked like Maggie always did on Reaping day, but this time for good reason. 

"I knew I just I knew I could feel it, Magaly. I knew. I just knew." She stammered as Mags approached. She gathered Magdalene in her arms and cooed, trying to keep her breathing steady. 

"You couldn’t have known, Mama." Mags muttered, kissing her mother’s forehead. "Have you seen her? Have you spoken with her?" 

Magdalene nodded, hastily wiping tears from her eyes. Magdalene hated when Mags was stronger than she was. The woman pulled herself together very quickly, brushing wild hairs back from Mags’ face. “Yes, I was just inside. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay… Well, she said she wants to see you. Help her, Magaly.” She brushed a warm hand across her daughter’s cheek. 

Mags nodded. “I will.” And with a slight wave to her friends, she disappeared into the meeting room to say goodbye. 

——————————-

When Mags walked into the meeting room, Maggie was slouched over a trash bin with her head between her knees. When she looked up at her sister her eyes were red and swollen and snot was running down her lips. She looked crazed and terrified. Maggie slipped from the little couch automatically, falling at Mags’ feet. Her hands gripped at the edge of Mags’ dress, trembling frightfully. At that moment they didn’t look anything alike and that terrified Mags. It was all wrong, the world skewed an ugly color. 

She sank to her knees and gathered Maggie into her arms. 

"I can’t—Don’t let Elvin come in! I won’t—I won’t be able to do it. Please, Mags." 

"Uhuh." 

"And tell Mama—tell Mama—I-I-I can’t—-tell Mama to add a pinch of cinnamon to the bread she likes me to make. She—she’ll… She’ll figure it out." 

"Uhuh." 

"And tell Zo and Gull… Tell them… Tell them I… That I…" Her words came in short spurts, defeated and sad. She hiccuped and struggled for breath, tears soaking their dresses as she clutched desperately at her other half. Mags tried to feel something. She was so accustomed to the numbness, now she feared it was going to consume her altogether. Could she do that now? Do as she’d always done? Could she remain numb to every person who she watched fight for their lives for the past eight years? Could she do that even with her sister in such games? 

"And Mags. A-always remember. Y-you’re my best friend. I-I don’t know what I’ll do without you." A pitiful laugh and a tortured smile. Maggie began to pull away from the embrace. It was a distance Mags was all too familiar with. She’d patented it, after all. 

"Maggie, wait." 

Her dark eyes turned back to look at her. So very much like her own. If not for the tears, she could be looking in a mirror. 

"Take off your clothes." 

"What?" Maggie was so shocked she forgot to be sad. She looked as if she’d been hit with a very large fish. 

"Take off your dress and take down your hair. And clean up your face or else they’ll think somethings up." Mags said, standing up and beginning to unbutton her dress, shimmying out of it and beginning to tick the minutes in her head. If they didn’t work fast their time would be up and they’d be discovered. 

"I don’t—" 

"You’re not going into that arena." 

Recognition began to dawn on Maggie’s face. “But—”

"Don’t argue with me, Maggie. You’re doing this. Now take off your dress." Mags drove the point home by roughly pulling the tie out of Maggie’s hair. Maggie glared up at her a moment, something between relief and hatred pooling in her eyes. It was, perhaps, the first time Mags had ever seen Maggie look downright angry. Nevertheless, she stood and began to strip, tossing the dress at Mags feet. 

They took up the dresses and pulled them on. Mags worked on her face, conjuring as much sadness and tears as she could muster. It wasn’t much. She’d once cried when a dolphin had washed up dead on the shore, but the memory was only enough to bring a little redness to her face and wetness to her eyes. She pulled her hair up, slapped her checks, and tousled her hair to look a bit more unkempt. 

Then she turned to Maggie would was hastily wiping tears from her cheeks. Mags reached out like she had many times before and wiped them away with her fingers, patting her face to smooth out some of the redness. Perhaps it wasn’t so far fetched that Magaly Cohen would leave her sister crying. Perhaps it wasn’t so conspicuous after all. 

"I can’t let you do this." Maggie finally said, reaching up to grip Mags’ hand. 

"You already have." 

"You’ll die." 

"Aw, come on, sis. Have a little faith." The joke sounded false, but she said the words anyway. 

"I can never repay you." 

"You don’t have to. I don’t want you to." 

"Why are you doing this?" This time Maggie’s tears were the ones that Mags recognized. But worse. This time Maggie was crying for her. And Mags knew she would watch the Games, suffer her remarkable sadness, with the hope that she would come home. And she would feel guilty if she didn’t. But Mags would feel guilty letting Maggie go. Maggie who even at sixteen would never be ready to face the Hunger Games. 

"Because you’re my best friend. I don’t know what I’ll do without you." Mags said. A different kind of numbness settled over her. Whether she lived or died, at least Maggie would be okay. "Make sure Elvin takes care of you while I’m gone okay. And tell Mama… Tell her I was just doing what she told me to. Now go. Before the Peacekeepers get angry." 

"Mags—" 

"I love you, Magaly." 

"I… I love you too… Magnolia." 


	2. Chapter 2

"Buck up, young man. It’s smooth sailing from here on in. You’ll get to see the Capitol. Perhaps it’s not as vast as the ocean, but it’s just as splendid, if not more so." Xenon warbled on, a drink in one hand and a vibrant blue bowler hat in the other. He paced around the train car like an anxious cat, observing the two tributes as if expecting them to burst into song at any moment.

Neither Mags nor Calder looked particularly keen to make any sort of noise. Calder’s face was red and strained, a muscle working in his jaw. Sun-drenched brown hair, caramel skin, and bottomless brown eyes, Mags had to admit he was much more handsome up close. It was no wonder the girls in his year raved about him so much. Not to mention he was wealthy, a merchant’s son. Mags and her family had been well off up until the last couple of years—when the Peacekeepers started taxing their grain for bad behavior. 

But Calder looked deflated. Like years worth of sunshine had been snuffed out in an instant. 

Mags on the other hand hadn’t moved since boarding the train. She didn’t cry. Didn’t speak. She’d sat like stone and stared out the window as the countryside passed her by. They passed forests and deserts and mountains and fields, places she’d never seen before. 

And briefly she wondered if she had seen the last of the sea. 

"I seriously doubt that." She found herself muttering under her breath, her eyes fixed on the blur of trees outside her window. Out of the corner of her eye, Mags spotted Xenon snap to attention. It was as if he was just now noticing her for the first time. 

"Hmm. I beg to disagree. You will eat those words, dear Magnolia. Just you wait." He huffed and twirled his hat onto his head. It didn’t quite fit due to the fact that his hair was so heavily gelled it wouldn’t move. 

"Please, call me Mags. Magnolia was my father." She snapped automatically, an almost involuntary smile playing at her lips. She heard Calder snort next to her. Xenon, however, didn’t seem to get the joke. 

"How very strange." Xenon murmured, sounding perplexed. It was enough to draw Mags’ attention from the window. She looked directly at the overly-blue man contemplating her family history. 

"It’s a family name, passed down for generations. It was my father’s and his father’s and his father’s father’s name. Traced back even before the great floods. It is not strange. It is noble." Mags stated the speech with such conviction, she could have believed it herself. Calder, however, sat trying to desperately contain the snickers escaping his lips. Xenon surveyed Calder with a suspicious eye before turning it on her. 

"I sense you are playing a joke on me." 

"Not at all." Mags stated innocently. Calder snorted even louder than before. It looked as if he might start crying. 

Xenon huffed and turned a violent shade of purple. For a moment it almost made Mags forget that she was riding a one way train to her death. “Excuse me. I’m going to the dining car. You two insolents can find your way on your own.” With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared from the car. 

"I think I offended him." Mags muttered absentmindedly, staring after him with a fearful sort of distance. It surprised her when Calder spoke, for she had almost forgotten he was there. 

"Looks like it." 

She glanced back at him. Some of the color had come back to his face. He was all dark sunlight, baked with years on the beach. She knew the look. She wore the look, her own skin tanned and freckled, her hair constantly a shade of sun kissed brown. They both looked like they lived on the sea. Like they belonged there. 

"Calder Marsh." He offered his hand. She stared at it with a brow raised. 

"I know." 

A smile crept up his lips, knowing and a little bit bashful. “Right. Sorry. You’re Magnolia, right? Cohen.” 

"Just call me Mags." 

"Mags it is." 

——————————-

Dinner, predictably, was a silent affair. Xenon slurped daintily at a bowl of brightly colored soup. Mags picked through what little seafood was offered while Calder ate ravenously. It looked to be a coping mechanism and she couldn’t blame him. 

Mags couldn’t help but notice the silence. At any other district there might be a mentor to help them along. But district four, thus far, had only had one victor and he’d committed suicide shortly after his victory. She couldn’t even remember his name. She was certain that Magnolia would know. But Magnolia wasn’t here. Only in name. Mags was on her own and there was no turning back. She couldn’t fathom the punishment there might be for taking the place of another victor without volunteering. 

Not that it really mattered. Either way, they got their tribute. 

"You might want to slow down." Mags noted to Calder with a private smile. 

Calder surfaced from his meal, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, I overeat when I’m stressed. Old habits.” 

Xenon seemed mildly relieved at the uptake in conversation. While he was still brooding, he couldn’t seem to stay quiet for very long, like the silence went against every fiber of his being. “Yes, yes, old habits die hard. But really, Calder, in this case old habits don’t need to die at all, don’t you think?” 

"You might be able to say the same about a bunch of teenagers, don’t you think?" Mags worked very hard to match Xenon’s happy-go-lucky tone. She had no choice but to suffer through his sky-blue injustice but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. If she was going to die, she was gonna go down laughing. 

Xenon blinked but pretended not to have heard her. Mags sensed this was going to be a running thing for the two of them. “It cannot hurt to bulk up, Calder. Not that you’ll need it of course. Strong muscles and experience on the sea might do you credit once you enter the arena.” 

"I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I could kill anybody." Calder shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

"Oh, no, don’t think of it as killing. Think of it as… Taking one for the team." Xenon replied brightly. 

"I’ll take one for the team. I can start now if you’d like." Mags offered as she pulled a large chunk of lobster out of it’s shell. 

She spotted Xenon’s eye twitch. It brought a devilish smile to her lips. This was going to be much more fun than she anticipated. She stuffed the soft lobster between her lips, letting it marinate on her tongue as she grinned over at Xenon with as much contained malice as she possibly could. 

"You know, I think I might turn in early for the night. In the morning, we’ll discuss strategy." He patted Calder on the shoulder and left the dining car, once more leaving the two tributes to bask in his absence. 

"He might kill you before the other tributes get the chance." Calder noted, toying with the mountain of food still left on his plate. He seemed edgy, all angles. It was incredible how quickly he lost his taste for food. 

"I’d like to see him try. I wonder if I poked him with a butter knife if he’d scream." Mags noted distantly, staring at the door Xenon had fled through. 

"I’m serious. You could get into a lot of trouble." 

Mags turned her attention to Calder, a dry exasperation whispering through her lips. “What are they gonna do? Kill me.” 

Calder took this in slowly, but he admitted defeat. “Fair point.” 

"Look, Calder. I like you. I barely know you, but you seem like a nice kid—"

"I’m two years older than you." 

"Needless to say, if I’m going to die, I’m gonna go down kicking and screaming. I’m gonna make Xenon and everyone else’s lives as difficult as possible. So you can either help me or we can go our separate ways. I think we both know which is the smarter option." 

Calder deliberated on her words a moment, as if weighing his options. “I never did like doing the smart thing.” 

"We’re going to get along just fine." 

——————————-

Strategy the next morning went as well as one might suspect. Mags spent the better part of Xenon’s attempt at conversation by posing counterproductive questions like “when can I start killing?” and “how many points do I get for each dead body?” Calder supplemented this material by sticking to a devout pacifism, convincing Xenon that he was completely incapable of harming another living being. At one point he spent several minutes trying to revive a fly that had tragically die in Xenon’s hair. 

Of course, after that, Xenon retired to his room to wash his hair thoroughly. 

Calder and Mags spent the morning laughing in his wake. 

But when their laughter began to quiet, Mags found herself gazing out at a ridge of mountains threading by the train windows at the speed of light. They were magnificent, rising into the sky higher than anything she’d ever seen. If you had asked her what life after death looked like, she would have said the mountains. Beautiful. Timeless. Still. She wondered if she’d die amongst them. 

"Do you think you’ll ever see the sea again?" Mags whispered, perhaps against her will. The words just came tumbling out in the absence of their laughter. 

Calder took a long time to answer. She wasn’t sure he’d heard her. But then he spoke, “I don’t think so. Not unless the games are…” He didn’t finish, but Mags understood. 

"I hope not. I couldn’t stand it. They’d turn my home into a battlefield. Typical." The words hissed through her teeth. 

"They did it before. They could do it again." Calder noted quietly. Mags remembered. She’d lost her father to one such battle and her family had been punished ever since. That’s what she got for being a rebel’s daughter. 

Suddenly, the mountains rose up around them, darkness falling over the cabin. “We’re getting close.” Mags muttered. It wasn’t necessarily that she knew, she could just feel it. The earth didn’t feel the same around them. She could no longer sense the sea. She could run for days and she would never reach it. Not before she was captured or died of dehydration. 

Not long after the train began to slow. Soon there would be cameras and lights and people. The both of them heard the train squeal as it came to a stop on the tracks. Distantly, the sound of chatter. 

They had arrived at the Capitol. 

——————————-

As much as Mags hated the Capitol, she didn’t mind so much being primped. Not that she was overly involved in her appearance, but there was something relaxing about letting other people take care of her for a little while. And sure, it wasn’t the kind of caring Mags would have thought of, but it was of a certain kind, even if it was superficial. 

She could have done without the waxing though. 

You’d have had thought the Capitol would have come up with a more effective hair removal technique. She figured they were frivolous enough to make that a priority but then again, considering that Xenon’s hair didn’t look 100% natural, she wouldn’t be surprised if the people of the Capitol didn’t grow any hair at all. Instead they had it implanted or wore fancy wigs to hide their unnatural baldness. 

Not to mention waxing was probably a special torture reserved for the lesser beings of the districts. 

Her stylist went by the name Rudolpho and he was a character of glitz. He paraded himself in a short shift dress and wore a headband emblazoned with crystals. Everywhere he went, Rudolpho glittered and he seemed determined to make everything else glitter as well. By the time Mags was free of the stylist and his handlers she feared she might blind all her competitors before the games even began. 

"What exactly am I?" Mags asked as she struggled to pull a strange fitted dress over her hips. It was much too tight for walking. 

"Why a mermaid of course!" Rudolpho squealed, pinning freshwater pearls into her hair. Mags tried very hard not to laugh at the irony. "They are your fins." 

"I can see that. Now." Mags noted dryly. 

"Excellent, you are perfect. Now give me a spine, my little flower." 

"Uh… Not gonna happen." Mags replied as she tried to take a step and nearly toppled over. It was only a matter of time before the dress ripped in half. 

She didn’t mind the strange bikini stitched together with pearls and pieces of shells, but the mermaid fin was where she drew the line. Bare skin was not a problem. Being unable to walk, however, was. 

"Is this really my only option?" 

"Do not fret, little flower, your only job from this point forward is to smile and look pretty." 

——————————-

Mags was more than a little appalled when Calder did not shuffle out in his own bikini and fins. Instead he looked rather noble with a massive golden trident and a pair of trousers made from pearls and fishnet. He glittered as much as she did, but he looked like a warrior and she looked like a fish. She didn’t like her odds. 

They hoisted her into the chariot with no small loss to her dignity. Mags was fuming as she struggled to keep balance in the vehicle, staring around at her competitors with a look that could kill. None of them looked particularly happy or comfortable but she did note a couple trying to hide smirks behind their hands. She would kill them first. 

And then, the music began. It set her reeling, a flicker of the last nine years playing in her head. She was sitting on the floor with Maggie sitting in front of her. Maggie’s eyes were glued to the transmitter as the same music began and the tributes, kids they used to know, marched out into the daylight for all Panem to see. Mags braided Maggie’s hair as she began to cry. They were silent tears but Mags could feel them through Maggie’s chest. And she threaded her fingers through Maggie’s hair slowly, methodically, gently, calling her back. Magnolia. Magnolia. Magnolia…

"Magnolia. It’s time to go." Rudolpho said below them. He nodded his head toward the opening in the gates to get her attention. "Smile. Be beautiful." 

"Is that all I should be?"

This seemed to stump Rudolpho. “What else is there?” 

The chariot pulled them out into the sunlight, the eyes of thousands of Capitol citizens pouring over them. Flowers drifted through the air towards them, meeting concrete and dying there abandoned. Mags was slightly appalled to see that most of them were magnolias. Pledges to the sister she was supposed to be. It made her angry. Was this their tribute to her? Tribute was such a dirty word. She wanted none of it. 

She found herself glaring, vicious like a mermaid prepared to lure you to the water and drown you there. 

Fine. If they wanted a mermaid, then that’s what they would get. 

Her glare turned to a dazzling smile. She would make them love her. And then she would eat them alive. 


End file.
